Nostos Algos
by blob80
Summary: ON HIATUS / "A pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy." -Gilgamesh/OC- A tamer of men and beasts brought in for show. For him, it was a way to kill time. For her, it was a final plight. So how did this game for a King's favor result in a longing throughout the ages? The love that remains is truly a peculiar thing.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

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 _ **YOU NEED TO READ THE EVENT CHART ON MY WORDPRESS.**_

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Gilgamesh was bored.

He abhorred boredom.

The day was hot and as he fiddled with the sleeve of his coat, he briefly regretted wearing it over his black cotton shirt. But he just didn't feel right when he wasn't wearing something long sleeved because the mongrels around him always seemed to try and brush against him whenever they had the chance. He grimaced at the thought – attractively, of course. It was impossible for a man that was two-thirds god to make a face anything short of perfect.

His blond hair sat over his forehead because having it slicked back seemed to attract too much attention from the petty humans that now inhabited his tainted lands. They scurried about their mundane, uninteresting lives trying to, but not completely being able to ignore his existence. Despite him trying to blend in, he exuded a confidence, an aura that only he could. Thus, it still attracted the attention of quite the number of men and women alike. Regardless of age. They were drawn to him. Some even tried to speak, but he was always far too disgusted and amused to give a proper answer.

Plebeians speaking to Kings.

What a stupid occurrence. Something that could only happen in a foul world such as this. A society that had lost its rightful ruler. These people were fools. Fools that didn't know a King – _their_ King walked amongst them.

Gilgamesh was currently in what Kotomine Kirei –his current _Master,_ an absurd title– called an aquarium. There wasn't much to do, really. He had been interested for the first few hours, but now he was getting tired of looking at the artificial lights and man-made environments that the more inferior life forms stayed caged in for entertainment. Poor things didn't even know they were being held captive. Ignorance was bliss, he supposed. In a way, they reminded him of all his subjects around him. Happy go lucky fools that needed a good bout of punishment from the hand of god. No. God was such a ridiculous, overused term. Besides, he would never place himself on the same level as those he despised. King of Heroes or King of Kings was far more accurate.

He was slowly learning all about this new world that had risen while he had his back turned. A ridiculous society filled with nothing but weaklings and fakers. This new earth couldn't hold a candle to his previous kingdom.

It was sickening.

Uruk was a grand place. Here, mongrels bred and lived without purpose. He had learned that some supposedly _found_ their purpose along the way, while others didn't at all. That, or they didn't have the means to follow their calling. Working and slaving away like mindless drones. They were better off dead. During his reign, even the most pitiable or youngest of slaves had purpose, had duty. There was no such thing to be found here. The gods weren't around to help show them their path anymore – only he was left. That was only right though. It was part of the reason he was born, after all. To become the Keystone of Heaven, ensuring that the humans recalled the fading gods.

Those selfish, self-important gods that could only impose and thrust things onto others.

He was appointed their observer, their judger, their King.

 _Their_ _babysitter_.

Thoroughly annoyed by his thoughts, Gilgamesh slowly made his way back to the church where he had taken residence. Purposely taking a longer way back because he knew that there was some kind of service going on. It was strange for him to stay in a place where jealous gods – or was it god? – were worshipped, but it made sense. This was the closest thing to a temple that existed in the city. There was also a seemingly infinite supply of wine and he could easily get his hands on funds to purchase only the finest of silverware and goblets. Though there were times when the loud bells would wake him or when he could hear singing at the most ridiculous of times, but he could live with it. The singing wasn't bad – tacky, maybe. They were songs about worship and praise. Not his taste, but the lyrics amused him if only for a few seconds.

He'd sit in and watch sometimes. Close his eyes and listen to the men and women clad in white as they sang songs of thanks to the Heavens that had long abandoned them. The Heavens that had sent him in their place. But he wouldn't grant their wishes. Why would he? All humanity did was continuously sin and destroy itself. Even in the church. Whenever he watched, he could always feel the eyes of a few nuns and teenage brats on him.

Disgusting.

Disgusting, disgusting, _disgusting_.

What were they thinking while in the _pure_ house of their absent God?

He didn't blame them for finding him attractive – otherworldly, almost.

But they were hypocrites, the lot of them.

Gilgamesh sighed loudly and brought a hand to his forehead, shaking the thoughts away. Dispelling them by rubbing his thumb over his brow. Part god he may be, but he was also part human. He wasn't immune to those vile lines that appeared because of a furrowed brow. His human side was irritating at times, but he'd never renounce it. The fact that he had the knowledge of both man and the divine was an advantage available only to him and his fellow demigods.

"Excuse me!" A woman said, a ways in front of him. She stood at a corner he had to turn left at to get back to the church. She had dark hair and a slim body. Her trembling hands and unsettled eyes gave the appearance of nervousness. "I've been watching you all this time, if you want could we please get to know each other bet—"

Gilgamesh closed his eyes and continued walking right past her, as silent as ever. How foolish for a commoner to ask him for something. He had rejected Ishtar, the Goddess of fertility, herself. Why would he accept a mortal mongrel?

He didn't have to turn or even open his eyes to know that her eyes had widened and she was furiously trying to catch up to his long strides. It was a common occurrence. How boring. He wasn't interested in someone that would offer herself before him like a common whore. She was frantically yelling, shouting something that his mind didn't care to register. The words went straight into one ear and right out the other.

"Hey!" She screamed just as he was about to open the gate of the church. "I'm talking to you!"

Gilgamesh easily sidestepped her hand that was about to reach out and grab his clothes. They may not have been the fine silk robes he was used to, but he liked this particular outfit and it wouldn't do for some random woman to touch him. He wasn't in the mood for a lay and he wasn't desperate enough to get in bed with such a revolting girl. She needed to know her place. A place not beside a King, not even as his courtesan. Gilgamesh turned crimson eyes to her and she immediately flushed red – another common occurrence, one that he yet again, couldn't blame her for.

 _Otherworldly,_ was written clearly in his reflection in her eyes.

He could see it. He wanted to shatter that ethereal dream she must've been imagining. How dare she have the gall to actually hold his eye?

With his hands in his pockets, he smirked and spoke.

"I'm not interested in the mundane beauty of third rate mongrels," he said, in his usual haughty tone. His words and attitude must have been surprising because her eyes widened. Had she thought him to be prince like? Absurd. The world wasn't rainbows and sunshine, fairytales were for fools. It was the ones with assuming minds that he loathed the most. "You're in the presence of a beautiful being. Filth like you should stay quiet at your place beneath my feet."

Her hands shook as she continued to stare at him like a frog. "W-Wha—!"

Before she could further express her surprise, Kirei, in all his priestly garb had opened the gate. He looked over him with dead eyes, before looking at the young girl. "You're back," he said, monotone. "And who might you be? I'm afraid services today are over. But you are free to come back tomorrow."

"Uhm," the girl turned to the priest. "N-No, I'm just—"

Gilgamesh didn't stay long enough to hear the end of that sentence. He walked past Kirei, muttering, "There are too many insects in this world. Looking at them makes me ill."

The priest didn't respond as Gilgamesh walked across the desolate courtyard and to the basement where he stayed. Despite the gloominess of the place, it was finely decorated. The interior wasn't as pristine as he was used to, instead it had a darker feeling to it – ominous. Still, it was classy. Everything was done in gold, dark wood and deep reds. Illuminated by candles. Few modern electronics were littered about the room, proving that he was indeed from a different era. An immaculate bed was in the corner, a table with highly detailed carvings sat to the left alongside a soft couch that housed a velvet throw blanket. Beside it was a desk, bookshelf, and a large glass container.

A square thing that housed the only prized possession he was unable to keep in his vaults.

Sitting and pouring himself a glass of wine, he stared at its contents.

A snake's former skin.

This clear shedding was what was used to summon him during the Fourth Holy Grail War. It was a memento of an era long gone and perhaps one of his only physical memories of a journey that had changed his life. For it to be used to bring him to this foul time must have been fate. He was here to tear down this place and make it new. Cull the people, strip them of their lazy encouraging luxuries and restart time.

He needed the grail for that reason, but not that reason alone.

He took a sip of wine, one hand reaching out to touch the glass' surface. Cold and smooth under his fingertips. It was easy for him to recollect days long forgotten, days that only he could recall. Echoes of the past whose ghosts haunted his mind. History may have been recorded in books and other texts, but only he was left to truly remember what the rest of the world had forgotten. What they left behind. There was a loneliness of sorts – a sadness that came with that realization.

Nostalgia may not have been the best companion, but it did hold an undeniable sweetness to it. One that made him keep his eyes on the snake skin in front of him.

"Shuri," he called the name with a smirk, the soft trails of content amusement flashing across his face. He raised his goblet to the shedding, his reflection silently toasting him in his isolation. "How daring of you to make even me wait."

Deep in his memories, he still remembered what he felt when he had made his decision all those years ago. The decision that he would be fine if _that_ journey never ended, because he had found someone far from boring. A creature that always entertained him hidden where he least expected. He had thought that the mere idea of such a person existing was inconceivable – utter nonsense, but he couldn't change the fact that he had been wrong. However, just that once, he didn't mind.

' _Quiet down, worm,'_ his voice echoed somewhere in the back of his mind as he stared at his reflection on the container's surface. _'You're annoying. I'll leave you behind.'_

"This is what happens when you aren't quiet," he said aloud. Cocky. She hated that attitude of his, always biting back. Gilgamesh could imagine the look on her face, it was easy to. He could hear footsteps somewhere in the distance, getting closer. But that didn't stop him from talking. "If you don't plan on coming to me then I'll come get you myself."

He raised his glass once more and downed the rest of his wine.

"The fifth war is almost upon us."

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 _A/N: New fic to replace OBR that's just about to leave my ongoing list. :) I hope it's alright so far. These are short chapters but they will get longer by the third, this is just to get the ball rolling. **YOU NEED TO READ THE EVENT CHART ON MY WORDPRESS.** __The event chart has fictional and non-fictional information that I won't be putting up in Author's Notes of my fic. It's far too long. This fic will follow the remake of Fate Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works. This story is set in the past, but there are a few future chapters of Gilgamesh's thoughts set during the ten year time skip between the fourth and fifth Holy Grail War. It doesn't go into any canon events except towards the end of the anime, so if anyone expects to see dozens of Saber's fight scenes or random appearances by Rin and Shiro then this fic is not for you._

 ** _This fic will be a short story fic. 10-25 chapters._**

 _..._

 ** _PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!_**


	2. The Beginning

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

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Gilgamesh leaned back in his seat. A golden thing befitting a King like him. He crossed his legs, silky robes a soft contrast over his taut skin – all lean muscle. He donned a smirk and solid gold all over his body in the form of earrings, a necklace, arm and wristbands. The personification of sleek, class and confidence. The sun was unrelenting with its heat. He didn't mind though, he was safe under the shade. Which couldn't be said for the rest of his subjects.

The skies were clear and there wasn't a cloud in sight it was by all means a startlingly beautiful day, but he didn't care for such trivial things. Let the farmers worry about the weather. He was King and thus, had drastically different tasks to attend to. His servants were bringing in jesters from all over the country to entertain him, beauties from every city to become courtesans in his palace or maidens of his temple, and scholars and blacksmiths to construct the grandest of inventions. He was supposed to be approving them one by one, judging their worth. But he couldn't find it in himself to concentrate because his current spot overlooked a great portion of his land, Uruk.

Instead he found himself briefly eyeing their performances, nodding or shaking his head when needed then looking back out at the view, taking in the sheer grandness of it all. His mind drifted to his friend, Enkidu, killed by the gods because of a petty woman whose fury was not to be trifled with. Stupid, jealous and corrupt. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't interested in a twisted, unfaithful goddess with as many lovers as women he's bedded. Which was obviously an absurdly large number. What was the point of being with a woman who could never be only his? Her rotten personality was also something to consider.

But her wounded pride had been no joke.

One that he should have expected would lead to something as outlandish as his only companion's death. But he didn't expect it and now here he was, worrying. Gilgamesh wasn't scared of death – it wasn't something to be terrified of. Nothingness, that's all it was. Oblivion wasn't something to be scared of, but it was something he wanted to avoid. He pondered more over his thoughts, before one of his servants interrupted. His ideas leaving him and filing themselves away for later examination as he turned his head.

A man and woman stood before him in peasant garb.

"These are scholars from the eastern provinces o—"

Gilgamesh tuned his servant's voice out at that point, dragging his eyes over the cowering forms of the two nervous academics. They reminded him of small animals trying to shrink in on themselves before a lion. He somewhat wished that he had his trusty pet lion here with him now just so he could see a flash of fear flit across their eyes at the beast tamed in his arms. When he looked back at the servant and saw that his mouth was still moving, he held up a hand in exasperation. His servant immediately shut up and bowed low.

"If they require such a long introduction then I'd rather not hear it," Gilgamesh said, smirking. "They could be putting their skills to use instead of cowering before me. Take them to the archives and come back to me when they produce results."

"Yes," the servant bowed.

"T-Thank you!" The two scholars said in unison as they were led out by a few guards.

Gilgamesh leaned his cheek on top of his knuckled, utterly bored. "How many more?"

"That was the last of the academics, my King. There should be a few more blacksmiths later in the evening," he answered, looking through a list. "But for now there are three more entertainers and about nine more ladies waiting for your assessment."

"I'm not interested in a woman at the moment. Let alone a wife," Gilgamesh said, clearly. "Send the rest away."

"I-I will send the noblewomen away," he said, unsurely. "But there are a few handpicked by some of the wealthier magical houses. They're offering them to you as courtesans."

Offering them? How foolish. Everything belonged to him.

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes and the servant practically jumped. "I won't repeat myself."

"I apologize for my impudence," he bowed at the waist, before scurrying out of the room and shooing the rest of the line away. His loud voice was determined and apologetic all at once. His servants were uneasy wrecks around him, but around others they commanded respect and held a calm, composed nature. But that was to be expected. He was part god, after all. His mere existence demanded worship.

Gilgamesh, from his spot above, watched the remaining dozen leave with disinterest. Some of the women were outraged – daughters of wealthy nobles, most likely. While the other women seemed relieved or jittery. Their nerves were understood. Standing before a King, no. Merely standing in his palace was intimidating. They were all quite beautiful in their own way, but not enough to hold his eye.

The entertainers were the last to leave. It was easy to tell them apart from the rest. They weren't in skin baring robes or priceless jewelry, but wore full cloaks that were twice as thick as what was considered usual. Their hoods were up and despite the glare of the sun, they walked lightly with a skip in their step, as if something like heat didn't affect them. Perhaps it didn't. Only the best and most exotic of jesters were sent to his palace, after all. Some could pull off things so strange that it even made _his_ eyes widen.

The thought of calling the entertainers back passed through his mind for a moment, before he quickly dismissed the idea. If they were truly great, no doubt they'd be called back soon. Instead, he continued to eye them.

Forever the observer.

One was taller and had a bigger build, obviously a male. He held the hand of a child, however the cloak concealed the child's gender, and lagging behind them was a lithe figure that could only be described as androgynous. But he assumed that it was a woman, just so it would complete the little set. Were these entertainers a family? It was possible. Then again, the smaller figure could have been male. In that case, they could still be family. But where then was the mother, he wondered.

He was far more interested in these types of things then the quick, two minute fancies entertainers provided. Human lives were far more captivating. They went through so many perils that he was always curious about how they ended up where they were. Most times he could figure it out with a few looks, but then there were also times where he preferred to have them tell their story. Embellished tales, but he enjoyed picking out the lies.

A warm gale swept past just as the androgynous figure turned their head up for one last look at his palace.

Crimson eyes met with pale orange in a clash of colors only produced by the setting sun. They were chatoyant with the outer corners turned up and as the wind continued to blow he was allowed a brief moment to look at long red hair. She turned away a moment later, running after her two companions. He watched her go, if she felt his gaze on the back of her head she didn't show it. Perhaps she hesitated to. He didn't know – didn't much care to.

All he did know was that when their eyes had met he was sorely reminded of a dormant feeling. Once lost, but not forgotten. Never forgotten. It was the feeling of being around kin. The same emotion he had felt when Enkidu was still by his side to laugh at his ill-mannered jokes and backhanded compliments. When his isolated world could still fit two. Not one to dally, Gilgamesh quickly stood just as his servant reentered the room. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but Gilgamesh walked right past him with a few simple words of elucidation.

"I'll be back," Gilgamesh said. "No more visitors today."

"Yes," his servant bowed.

He didn't have to lift a finger, didn't need to. All doors were opened for him and servants stopped and bowed as he walked past. A few of his more favored courtesans shot him seductive little smiles that he merely shrugged at. He could play later, right now he wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. There were far heavier things weighing on his mind then the idea of pleasure.

He kept walking with only one thought on his mind. Who was she and what was that feeling that ran through him? He had felt the presence of a being not on his level, but close to it. She couldn't be a goddess though. She lacked the ethereal glow of one and he had never even heard of her – not even a passing whisper. Besides, it was _his_ job to watch over humanity. There was no need for another being like him on this earth.

He smirked.

Whatever the case, he was sure of only one thing.

The gods were up to something.

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 _A/N: New fic to replace OBR that's just about to leave my ongoing list. :) I hope it's alright so far. **These are short chapters but they will get longer by the third, this is just to get the ball rolling.** **YOU NEED TO READ THE EVENT CHART ON MY WORDPRESS.** __The event chart has fictional and non-fictional information that I won't be putting up in Author's Notes of my fic. It's far too long. This fic will follow the remake of Fate Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works. This story is set in the past, but there are a few future chapters of Gilgamesh's thoughts set during the ten year time skip between the fourth and fifth Holy Grail War. It doesn't go into any canon events except towards the end of the anime, so if anyone expects to see dozens of Saber's fight scenes or random appearances by Rin and Shiro then this fic is not for you._

 _..._

 ** _PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!_**


	3. Death and Destiny

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

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At the top of Gilgamesh's palace was a large open area designed in varying shades of gold. The floor was made of pure, finely chiseled stone that shimmered like silver in the rain – glinted like diamonds under the stars. It was a private area. His solitary dwelling. It was the only place in the kingdom he didn't use to observe his subjects, but it wasn't his safe place either. It wasn't his hideout or getaway. No. It was far more important than that. It was where he came when the gods wanted to speak with him, they'd appear before him here and tell him of their plans.

This, however, was the first time he had actually taken the time to come here without being summoned. Something the gods noticed because as soon as he looked up at the setting sun – the color of freshly spilt blood, hitting the city below, turning it red almost as if it were going to melt it into nothing – a voice boomed. It didn't come from above, the voice descended all around him like a sudden shower of rain. He closed his eyes and focused. A whisper in his ears, a change in the air.

Unpleasant.

In every sense of the word.

"So you've come," Anu, king of gods – his grandfather, said. "Why have you, I wonder. To speak to your mother? Ninsun is busy watching over those deplorable humans at the moment. Giving their animals her blessing for the harvest moon."

Gilgamesh let the insult to his earthly half slide. "I'm not here to speak to her."

Gilgamesh heard whispers in the background. The other gods, no doubt. How did they speak to him anyway? If he could hear their whispers then it couldn't have been telepathically. Perhaps they were like the shamans and mages, communicating and seeing things through crystal balls. His adept ears picked up the sound of the Goddess Ishtar's voice. A shrill shriek he'd never forget. Seemed she was still angry about his rejection, despite all the pain she had inflicted on him and his people. She'd get what was coming to her before his time, he'd make sure of it.

"Then why have you come?" Anu asked and the whispers immediately ceased. "This is your first visit, surely it isn't because you missed our voices."

"Perish those vile thoughts," Gilgamesh's voice was a command. Anu, however, was a good natured king. Lax and sometimes teasing. That worked in Gilgamesh's favor. Anu didn't mind his rough, almost scalding words. Perhaps it was his fondness over him being his grandson? That was likely.

"Then will you make me ask again?" Anu muttered. "Asking a question three times is a practice I do not follow."

"You know why I'm here," Gilgamesh spread his arms, emphatically. "But I will put it into words because it seems that you have no intention of providing me an answer unless I do so."

He opened crimson eyes and stared up at the darkening sky with malice. His gaze was cold and unforgiving, but the gods didn't understand the reason why – they never could. Gilgamesh had the knowledge of both divinity and earthly beings. It kept him isolated from the rest of the world, no one could ever see his perspective, his take on things. At least, not truly.

"My eyes caught sight of a rather interesting woman today," he breathed out, daring one of the gods to throw an insult about a man's libido.

Girra, the god of fire, was the one to speak out. "Well feel free to bed her," he said, complete with a boisterous laugh. His personality was just as changing and uncontrollable as flames, but unfortunately so was his temper. "You're free to have any woman you please. They're easy pickings, those humans are. Some are quite beautiful as well. Captivatingly eye-catching, if I do say so myself."

"Don't play the ignorant fool," he replied, scathingly. Girra was playing dumb. Gilgamesh could hear it in his tone. They knew of who he was speaking of. They always watched him, after all. "She felt off. Why."

It wasn't a question.

"Felt off?" Ahn repeated. "Or felt like you?"

Gilgamesh narrowed crimson eyes. "What are you up to?"

He had had enough of their scheming ways. Was it not enough that Enkidu, his only companion and friend was taken away from him because of a foolish goddess' jealousy? What more was left for him to give? His power? His position. No. To be King was the reason he was born. They'd never expect him to give that up. Why then would they play with fate and have his eyes meet this woman's? Perhaps this was another attempt at punishing him for the way he ruled. They'd never understand the reason behind his actions, how could they? They didn't know the minds of humans. Well, whatever the case, it didn't change the fact that he wanted to know their schemes. Especially since it looked like he'd once again be the star in yet another one of their diabolical games.

"If this is another attempt at punishing me and getting me to change my ways," Gilgamesh said, eerily calm. "Then I suggest you stop meddling in my affairs. Immediately. What would you know of ruling an earthly kingdom? Don't expect me to hold your views, foolish spirits."

The Heaves were quick to erupt into a flurry of shouts.

"The nerve!" Gilgamesh heard one goddess shout.

"Kill him! Turn this ingrate to ash!"

"Dispose of this half-breed and be done with it!"

"Anu, my King! Let us dispose of his ill-mannered tongue!"

"Teach him a lesson he won't soon forget!"

Gilgamesh listened to all of their insults and threats of severe bodily harm. He had time. But their loud voices only made him smirk. A tilt of the lips that could bring the most beautiful of goddesses down to their knees. Unfair in its total perfection. There was no way they'd get rid of him. He was King. He didn't bow down to the gods, nor did he listen to their every whim. That's just what being human was about. It gave him an edge which was the reason why he'd never willingly forsake his earthly side. It made him who he was – the King of Kings.

They knew that.

They knew very well what they created.

"Silence!" Anu yelled and the lesser of the deities obeyed. It was second nature. Humans weren't like gods though. They didn't know when to stop pushing, they disobeyed. Always disobeyed. So, despite Anu's command, Gilgamesh spoke.

"What are you up to? Those above shouldn't meddle in the affairs of those below them. That's my job, my mission," Gilgamesh glared at the Heavens – at the stars beginning to show themselves. He found the Northern Star, biggest and brightest, and sneered. "Just continue to watch and twinkle like the unreachable beings you are from your spot up there. Don't you dare interfere, don't you dare give false hope and pretend to grant wishes, don't you dare cry and try to sympathize when you see sadness lurking in the air, and don't you dare send another being to try and punish me."

"Bold words, to be sure—" Anu spoke, but Gilgamesh wasn't finished.

"I don't care even if I invoke the ire of the Heavens," he said, loud and clear. No hesitation, zero reluctance. "Your wrath, your intervention over petty jealousy or misguided morals is useless. I will always conquer everything and anything that stands in my way," Gilgamesh paused to let them take in the bite his words held. All cheek, all impudence. "Shall I begin with that woman – that punisher you sent? Or perhaps entertainment is a more fitting word."

"We did not send anyone to punish you, Gilgamesh," Anu told him. His voice was a mask of composure. He was trying to quell his sudden bout of fury, Gilgamesh could tell.

Gilgamesh scoffed, crossing his arms to show his impatience. "Then perhaps you should stop avoiding the question and tell me what I want to know, before blood is spilt."

"Your impudence knows no bounds, Gilgamesh," Anu's voice was fading and Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed at the realization. "Wallow here with your questions, seethe in your impatience, and come back when you learn respect."

Gilgamesh heard the tinkling sound of transcendent gods and goddesses laughing at him, before they all disappeared. Silence reigning once again. He was sick of their pettiness, of their debauchery, of _them._ Always choosing to punish him as if it would accomplish anything. He wasn't a child and he wasn't a common mongrel.

"Atrocious dolt," Gilgamesh insulted to air.

He knew they heard him and that thought made him smirk. He turned around and walked away with purpose in each step. Every stride longer than the last. If they were going to be evasive then he'd find the root of his confusion himself.

It wasn't a difficult task.

* * *

In the middle of the bustling city of Uruk, there was a commotion going on as people bustled about in preparation of a large celebration. Their festive spirits were clear and the mood of the entire city was warm and light. The people would be praying for another good harvest this year. This was perhaps the only festival that they were lavish about. Uruk had just emerged the victor of a seven year drought and there was no way they'd risk the ire of yet another god. They didn't know what had happened that had caused such famine, but they blamed themselves for not offering enough during previous years, so now they did everything to make up for it. Sparing no expense.

When such a wealthy capital decided to be extravagant, the decorations and offerings were second to none.

"Shuri!" A young boy called as he ran up to a woman with long red hair. The excitement in his eyes were clear and Shuri was reminded of a puppy. Energetic, wild and just all over the place. Exactly like the boy before her. A bundle of joy with long dark hair – a mess that got into his eyes. "The palace was so big! Everything was golden and looked really expensive!"

Shuri smiled for all of a moment, before her eyes caught sight of a gash on the boy's cheek. "Ahn," she called, seriously. Bending down to run her hand over it. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" He assured, complete with hand gesture. He brushed her hand away with an irritated look on his face. "I just fell off the ropes again! I underestimated the wind today!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Remy tell you not to practice during windy days?"

He put his hands behind his head and gave her a toothy grin. "Just don't tell and we're good."

She ruffled his hair. "Really now…"

"Anyway," he said, changing the subject as they walked through the crowded streets. Some greeted them as they passed and a few shop keeps tried to get them to buy their wares, coercing them with false compliments. Some women actually fell for it and spent an obscene amount of money. "Am I glad that we were able to leave the palace! Those guys just picked us up and brought us over because they were short a few more performers."

"Perhaps they knew we'd be dismissed," Shuri offered, but Ahn immediately shook his head. "Yes, I suppose that was a rather preposterous assumption."

Even she knew that it was a convenient excuse. They got lucky, that was all. She was a firm believer in luck. Only problem was that luck had never been on her side, so when something like this happened the world felt off. It felt as if something was conspiring against her and she wanted to know what this ominous feeling in her heart was. But at the same time, she wanted to remain in this constant state of ignorance. Playing games with coincidence and fate was dangerous for everyone involved.

"It really was," Ahn agreed. "Palace scouts are tyrants. They don't care about us. They only care about their quota."

"Don't let them hear you say that," she muttered. "The walls have ears, Ahn."

He nodded, lowering his voice a fraction. "I know."

Shuri moved to the side to allow a man holding two large barrels through. He was tall and muscular, winking at her as he passed. "Why don't you at least attempt doing your tricks for the King?" She asked, completely ignoring the man. "You never know, he might have strange taste."

Ahn grimaced at the obvious insult, but didn't comment on it. "I'm definitely not confident enough to appear before the King. Whenever entertainers aren't kept in the palace for at least a few days the rest of the town rejects them just because they couldn't entertain the King. I mean, the King is just way too hard to please. A guy shouldn't be like that! Simple is good! Why, all I need is a warm meal, a roof over my head, and a beautiful gi—"

Shuri hit him over the head. "You're nine. What do you think you're saying?"

"I'm twelve!" He whined.

"Look," she hit his head again. "Either way you look at it, five year olds shouldn't be talking about women as if they're experts. You're spending too much time at that pub across town."

"Well, sorry if there's nothing for me to do around he—"

She interrupted him, before he got carried away. "And how, pray tell, do you know about the entertainers that aren't accepted by the castle?"

He shrugged. "Just stuff I hear. Rumors float like flies here."

"Everyone," she muttered, carefully looking around at their surroundings. "Is always following a rumor."

"You say the weirdest things," he told her.

"The words that come from my mouth are the wisest you'll ever hear. Sages and scholars only dream of attaining the kind of wordplay I possess," she said, clearly. Ahn scoffed at the self-praise, mumbling something that could only be described as unpleasant under his breath. Unfortunately for him, her hearing was impeccable. "Keep cracking wise like that and you'll suffer an early death."

"You should try being modest," he said, scathingly. "The gods smite the arrogant."

"I tried being modest once," she muttered, turning a corner. "As expected, I was amazing at it."

"Che," he scrunched up his nose, briefly sticking his tongue out at her. She was always like this. Able to silence anyone with that flippant bow of a mouth. She had a sort of haughty sophistication that she exuded with hardly any effort, but unlike him, she could easily keep her mouth shut. Wit was under her control. Perhaps that came with age. He didn't know. But the way she spoke made those around her smile. An unhurried, teasing manner. There was a sort of lightheartedness in her tone that made her words sound joking. Ahn never really knew if she actually meant what she said – didn't want to find out either.

"You're staring at me," Shuri said, eyeing him sidelong. "What is it?"

"You're so lucky," he sighed, exasperated. Shuri swore that she had only heard that kind of sigh leave the lips of old men and broken hearted adolescents. Ahn would make a good impressionist. "Being pretty must be great."

She snickered. "You want to be _pretty?_ "

He narrowed his eyes. "You know what I mean!"

"On the contrary—" Shuri suddenly stopped, grabbing Ahn's wrist and breaking out into a mad dash.

"H-Hey!" Ahn said, getting over his initial surprise and running properly. They made their way through back alleys and streets that only slaves and thugs frequented. Away from any and all prying eyes. "What gives?!"

Shuri held her hood over her head as they continued running. "I saw some imperial guards!"

Ahn's eyes widened, before he picked up the pace. No way in Enllil's name were they going to get caught again. He had absolutely no intention of being the King's monkey. Sure, he liked to prance around, he could admit that. But he sure as hell didn't do it for nobles – let alone, demigods. He wasn't some kind of court jester. Their little group performed for the people. Easy to please, easy to make money. Nothing more, everything less. The smiles that they were able to put on the faces of the plebeians were different. It was a smile of actual entertainment where they could find in no other place. The wealthy – mages or otherwise – could find amusement anywhere. They didn't _need_ them.

They ran for a good half hour with no intention of stopping, smiles on both their faces as their cloaks billowed behind them. Ahn was smaller and quicker on his feet, so he ran ahead with ease, dodging people left and right. Shuri on the other hand, had to squeeze her way through a few tighter back alleys but that didn't stop her from keeping up. She made sure Ahn was within her sight at all times. She had taken it upon herself to watch him, after all. Besides, who else would look out for such an energetic, hot blooded boy? Realistically speaking, no one would even volunteer for such a tedious task.

"Shuri!" Ahn turned his head to look at her, keeping his pace. "Hurry up! We've got a show!"

Ah, that's right.

It was amazing how he was actually able to remember that. Ahn was far more responsible than he looked or perhaps she was just giving him too much credit. Whatever the case, Shuri ran faster as she looked up at the sky to see the northern star just beginning to peek out. Her eyes narrowed as she sought out the big dipper, trying to tell the time. It wouldn't do for them to be late. They couldn't leave Remy and the others to entertain the crowd by themselves.

Picking up her pace, Shuri gave it her all. But for half a second, she had a clear view of Ahn's eyes widening and his jaw dropping as he skidded to a halt, bumping right into a scary looking passerby. She was about to voice her concern, but in the next moment she realized why he had been so surprised and her face mimicked his expression. Someone had grabbed her arm right in the middle of her sprint and she almost fell flat on her face. The tight grip on her elbow was the only thing that kept her standing as she furiously turned to her captor. She was met with a chiseled chest, expensive garments and gold.

Gold, gold, gold.

He was stained with the color.

Her eyes met his – a clash of color only produced by the setting sun – and they narrowed at the smirk he donned.

"I've been searching for you, mongrel," he said. His voice was haughty and masculine. The type that could send a woman swooning with a mere whisper. "Clearly my guards don't have the ability to catch even a single woman. A fitting punishment will be decided later."

Shuri looked wearily around her and noticed how everyone had bowed low to the ground. Of course they had. She wasn't ignorant enough to not know whose eyes were eating through her form with a wry smirk. Gilgamesh, King of Babylon, himself. Supremacy before her very eyes. She had unintentionally caught his attention as she was looking up at his palace. But that wasn't a reason for him to be here, so why was he?

' _Had he found out?'_ Her mind supplied in the form of mental panic.

Gilgamesh reached out to brush a stray curl from her face, wrapping it around his fingers. His fingers were like claws around her arm, bruising it. Not like he cared. "Now, bow before me."

' _No,'_ she realized with an almost stone-cold sort of calm. _'He hadn't.'_

"I won't repeat myself," Gilgamesh said. "I'll show you what happens to the gods' punishers, you filthy—"

She slapped him.

Slapped him so hard that his lip split open.

The sound of the hit echoed throughout the silent alley and Shuri didn't waste a moment. She only had a brief look at his face, a twisted mixture halfway between stunned surprise and disgust. Absolutely frightening. But it was his shock that allowed her to escape and begin running again. She didn't look back at him, but by the way people cowered as she sped past he must've donned an almighty grimace. She knew he'd give chase, in fact, she could feel it. He had a killing intent that couldn't be joked about.

A golden spear flew right past her head and her eyes widened as she spun out of the way, using laundry lines to scale a small building. She was lucky her profession required such nimble talents or else she could forget about climbing anything, let alone the side of a building. Once on the roof, she turned to see him looking up at her. Her shadow covered the light of the moon from shining over his face. A fact that she was thankful for because his glowing red eyes looked like the color of spilt blood. The slap mark on his cheek was slowly fading and there was a thin line of crimson across his lips. An indication that he had hurriedly wiped off the mess. The mess she had caused.

He was glaring at her, dozens of what looked to be portals appearing behind him. Weapons sticking out of each one. That power definitely wasn't human; it was the power of a god. The likes of which she couldn't hope to compete with.

"My liege," she said, all respect and false pretenses. "Allow me to apologize for my crassness."

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes at her. Now that she was cornered she apologized, how like a human. "Your mock innocence and your unrepentant apology is noted, but not accepted."

Another half dozen portals opened up and aimed at her.

"Die, mongrel."

* * *

 _A/N:_ ** _I released a SebastianXOC, and an UndertakerXOC._** _Please visit my wordpress for important story announcements and to read all notes regarding this fic._

 _..._

 _ **PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_


	4. Follow Suit

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

* * *

 ** _Imporant A/N:_**

 ** _Read carefully, I'll go through names and titles so you guys can keep up with the amount of Egyptian and Babylonian mythology I put into this fic. Both canon to the fate series, and not. It would be in your best interest to read the NOSTOS ALGOS EVENT CHART ON MY WORDPRESS._**

* * *

It was raining.

The perfect skies that had been clear a minute before were relentless as they showered his kingdom in splashes of cold water only further chilled by the night air. Though it wasn't like Gilgamesh fully believed the skies were going to be clear for the rest of the night. He had lived long enough to know not to trust whatever it was the skies promised. It would rain – it always did. People around them scrambled back inside their houses, others that were able to see him through the impromptu pelting still stopped to droop down into the lowest of bows before continuing on their way.

He ignored all of them.

Gilgamesh kept his gaze on the woman before him, pinning her with his unwavering stare. His hair left its slicked back style and now matted itself down on his forehead. His robes clung to him and he could see the rain take its toll on her own appearance as well. He wondered for a brief moment if perhaps she'd get sick if she stayed too long in this rain, but he quickly perished the thought. It's not like that mattered. Besides rain or no, he still looked flawless. Though he was a bit bothered by the fact that the rain was ruining his robes.

Two of his weapons shot out at her in a quick test of her skill. He couldn't have another incident like what had occurred at the Temple of Uruk. He had completely emptied his vault when he had faced off against Enkidu, having underestimated the power of one of the gods' messengers. This, however, was unlike that time. He could tell from the way her eyes widened and how she glided around the two weapons fired at her with panicked surprise. She didn't shoot anything back at him, no powerful attack, no great offense – nothing.

In fact, she looked more adept to dodging and running away than actually fighting back. If the way she slithered around was any indication. A wave of disappointment and confusion flooded him at the realization that she wasn't out to get his head. Why then, was she here? Had the gods really sent her to punish him? Of course they had. Nothing else could explain the strange aura she exuded. An aura so much like his own.

Gilgamesh glared at the woman standing above him. She blocked the moon from his sight, but with her there before him he probably wouldn't have been able to see it even if he tried. Her presence didn't command his attention – of course it didn't. That was an outlandish thought. Only his own attendance could do such a thing. He _willingly_ gave her his notice. Not because he was angry at the fact that she stood on a ground higher than he did, nor was it because he was annoyed by the self-important way she spoke or looked down on him from her position, and it most definitely wasn't because he was absolutely livid by the slap he had just taken to the face.

No. Definitely not.

He wasn't that petty.

"Uncultured swine," Gilgamesh's voice boomed, piercing through the crisp night air and overpowering the sound of rain, of nature, itself. He put a hand on his hip, giving the illusion of casual candor. "If you beg, perhaps I'll give you the gift of a quick death."

His Gate of Babylon itched to shoot, to let out its contents. A vault that he hadn't opened in far too long. Now that he had, he wanted to enjoy firing his precious treasures. Projectiles that produced light far brighter than any star. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was curious about her. Mere humans didn't possess the capabilities to dodge one, let alone _two_ of his weapons, so what was she?

"My King," she said with a frown. She called his title without any mockery or malice. Just another honorific. Said in a way that made it seem like she defused the anger of nobility and the wealthy often. But she still didn't obey his words and that more than anything had his annoyance rising, bubbling to the surface – along with his amusement at the entire situation. "I'm afraid that a different venue requires my attendance."

His eyes narrowed in disdain. As far as he was concerned, he should have been her first priority. "Nothing should be more important than your _King._ "

"Nothing is," she tilted her head up at the Heavens in a gesture. One he easily read through. The gods – or perhaps only _god –_ were her kings. What a foolish woman. To trust beings that cared not for her was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

"And what of the one standing before you?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. Irritated eyes glancing sidelong at her in a demeaning way. "You have the gall to say that I am not your King after saying such fancies, after throwing around the word _my._ Lying to my face… How badly do you wish for death, mongrel?"

It wasn't a question; it was a blatant threat.

One that she had no doubt he'd make good on. But she was surprised to hear no edge of arrogance in his voice. Only cold fact. Said so confidently that it could only be hailed as truth. His voice almost had a sing-song cadence to it, as if he enjoyed threatening random strangers. He probably did. Gilgamesh laughed out loud at her silence as she narrowed her eyes at the unpleasant sound. Then, almost as an afterthought, he swung his hand in a lazy arc. More portals opened and he gave her a threatening smirk. But his hand suddenly stopped midway, his eyes narrowing as a voice boomed from the sky.

"Enough," the voice commanded.

Gilgamesh sneered, head snapping up to look up at the skies heavy with rain. An aura of death and violence emanated from his form. It made the very heavens cry out as more rain poured and the loud sparks of thunder got even louder.

"That is enough," the voice said again in an uncompromising tone that had Gilgamesh scoffing.

"You dare order me around?" Gilgamesh challenged, looking up at the Heavens with a provoking look in his eyes. Utterly defiant. "If you want me to stop then you are free to come down and force me. I will not be swayed by mere voices."

"I said," a hand grabbed his arm. "Enough."

Gilgamesh looked at the beautiful goddess that stood before him. Her skin was glowing pure white. She wore a plain white tunic and a gold circlet sat on her head. Dark hair with orange eyes, her pupils like a snake. Gilgamesh, however, was not swayed by such beauty. He merely narrowed his eyes and gave her a glare that would have sent lesser men cowering with their tails between their legs. Who was this goddess? She clearly wasn't part of the Mesopotamian gods. Why was she here? Why did she still his hand?

Gilgamesh noted that the rest of the world had stopped moving. Humans stood still and even the rain had steadied. No noise present; only the sound of her voice. A goddess, indeed.

"Do not touch my daughter, King of Heroes," the goddess all, but spat. Venom dripping from every word. "Shuri is not for you to keep, nor to touch."

"Daughter?" Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed into slits.

"A bastard child," Shuri chimed in, carefully making her way down the building and dropping to a low bow before her mother. It wasn't everyday a goddess left the Heavens, and in this humanoid form, Shuri knew that it must've strained her body.

Gilgamesh paid Shuri's words little to no attention. Instead, he looked up at the sky and bellowed, "Anu, you sly prune! Explain this!"

The Heavens were silent.

Gilgamesh scoffed. Of course. Leave it to gods to disappear when they were most needed. Always offering false hope and whispering promises they had no intention of keeping. Such unreliable beings. But that was fine, Gilgamesh would never abandon humans as they did. It was his duty – and his curse. But this, _this_ was a blatant disregard of the rules. He was the only demi-god on this Earth, given a job and sent to watch over the humans. There was no need for another like him. Her very existence infuriated him.

"I am the Egyptian goddess, Wadjet," the goddess said, snake like eyes crawling over his form. She stood as straight as a bow and held her head high. "Protector of Egypt."

"What is an Egyptian goddess doing in Babylon?" Gilgamesh crossed his arms in displeasure. "Don't tell me you're lost, if so then I'll happily bring you back to that sorry excuse of land."

"Such an unpleasant man doesn't deserve the hand of my dearest daughter," Wadjet said.

"Nor do I want it," he looked over at Shuri, her red hair darker in the rain. A blur of light against the gloom. She looked nothing like her mother. Just the eye color, but even their pupils were different. Wadjet was more intimidating, her daughter more… _human_ , was perhaps the best description.

"Do tell that to your gods," Wadjet turned her back to him, pushing her daughter away from him. "They've been scouring all of Egypt in search of those like my daughter – those like yourself. They want to unify the lands apparently."

"It's a very brazen move," Shuri said, all hints of defiance gone from her voice as she spoke to her mother. "Though I don't dislike the fact that they led my caravan to Babylon. There are many impressive sights and welcoming people."

"Such a forgiving girl," Wadjet cooed over Shuri like any high class mother would over a daughter. Gilgamesh had seen the wealthy treat their daughters the exact same way. "However, do keep in mind your position. You cannot die, not when I still have need of your talents."

"Yes," Shuri muttered. "I know."

Gilgamesh scoffed at the interaction. To him, she was defiant and stoic; yet one word from her mother had her sitting down like an obedient dog. He turned his head away in disappointment and instead looked above him with contempt. He knew those gods were up to something, but this was just ridiculous even for them. To go behind his back was a new low. One he didn't think they'd hit. They were silent as he stared and after a moment, Gilgamesh turned his head away.

"I bid you farewell, Gilgamesh, King of Heroes," Wadjet turned away from him and pushed Shuri forward. "The humans are waiting, my lovely daughter. Go, I will see you again."

With that, she disappeared as abruptly as she had come.

Time moved again.

The rain pelted them, the voices of locals permeated the air, and all that was left was Gilgamesh and Shuri. Staring at each other for one long moment. He could hear some people wondering when he had put away his portals or when she had moved to stand before him. Little they knew; little they saw. Gilgamesh ignored them, opting instead to examin her form, eyes trailing over her body and getting a good eyeful as if to imprint to memory her appearance. At least he had received an answer to his question. She was like him though her purpose was an entirely different one. Her purpose was to serve, to entertain. How pitiful.

He broke the silence first.

"Shuri," he called, trying the name on his tongue. All previous hostility nowhere to be found. "Other than those meddlesome geezers on the throne, what brings you to Babylon? To my city?"

She looked up at him through wet locks, her eyes wide in surprise. Clearly she hadn't been expecting the question since he had been trying to kill her just a moment ago. She took a deep breath to gather her thoughts and she whispered something into the rain, but it was drowned out by a flash of thunder. He could have probably caught her words, but he was loathed to admit that her hair drew his attention. It was such a disgustingly vibrant color. Noisy. Uncontrollable. Almost as if it were calling out to him, saying,

' _I'm here. Alive. Notice me. Dampen me! Take away my vigor! I dare you!'_

Loud, unruly and red. So damn red.

She had a kind face, but the hair was the giveaway. She was intense, lethal, and just a little bit mad.

"Shuri!" A young boy suddenly ran up to them, bumping right into Gilgamesh's leg and falling to the ground.

Gilgamesh looked down at the boy not even gracing him with a grimace. He noted that the boy had called for Shuri. "I'm in an agreeable mood," he said with arrogance that could put the gods to shame. "Consider yourself fortunate."

Ahn looked up hesitantly at the voice of the King, swallowing the lump in his throat and not even caring that he had fallen right into a puddle of mud. What in the world was the King of Babylon doing in a place like this? What did he want with Shuri? His eyes met with the perfect form of Gilgamesh, himself, who merely spared him a glance. One glance and that was it. As if everything that Ahn was had been perceived, judged and dismissed in that one instant. Red eyes turned away from him and focused back on Shuri – they looked surreal in the rain together. Ethereal. Staring at each other as if they were longtime acquaintances with desperate secrets.

"I didn't quite hear that," Gilgamesh said to her, referring to her previous whisper. "Speak up, mongrel."

Shuri's eyes narrowed though he didn't look to be trying to insult her. Perhaps that's what made it all the more infuriating. "I have a show, so I'm afraid I must be going now."

"Come to my palace," he announced without a care for her schedule or life for that matter. Her eyebrows moved in a mad attempt to reach her hairline. Caught completely flat footed at the abrasive and uncompromising tone of command. "You're an entertainer, are you not?" He continued, as if it had already been decided. Then again, Gilgamesh's word was law. "Do a show for me."

"I must be returning to Egypt soon," she told him, tilting her head. "Though you are free to sit in on tonight's sho—"

Gilgamesh sighed and turned his back on her.

"I said come," he said. "So hurry and follow."

"Don't be absurd," she replied and he stopped in his tracks. "Why not visit my show. I'm sure the view from your castle is tiring, no?"

He turned to her, raising a perfect eyebrow. "You have obviously never seen the view of my castle."

She grinned at him. "Come to my show and I will come to your castle."

Ahn's eyes widened as he quickly jumped to his feet. "Shur—!"

Gilgamesh laughed. It was loud and masculine.

He had a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

"How interesting," he said, eyes alight with mischief. This was a first – the first time he had ever been presented with an ultimatum. He abhorred not getting his way, but perhaps there was something interesting for him at the end of this road. No matter how infuriating her words sounded at the moment. " _You're_ interesting."

She tilted her head at him, before shrugging. "You have a strange way of complimenting someone."

"You are no longer a third rate mongrel, I am promoting you to first rate. Or worm, I suppose works just as well."

She smirked at his words and Ahn watched as some strange sort of mutual understanding spread between them. Not acceptance. Not like, either. Merely a consensus. Common ground where they both could tread, though Ahn doubted he could follow. They were surrounded by an invisible bubble and here he was unable to even get his mouth open. Perhaps it was because he was in the presence of the King of Babylon, himself.

The skies suddenly cleared and they looked up at the moon that had peeked out again, as if responding to Gilgamesh's better mood. Perhaps it had. Shuri could somehow believe that even the weather would obey the King of Babylon if he so wished it.

The man in question, however, seemed to have a different thought on the matter.

"The gods are mocking me," Gilgamesh said, looking up. He was extremely aware of how his bad mood was fixed in the blink of an eye, almost like a child. It was clear how petty he was being, and that pettiness was clear to the gods, as well. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. Those gods could laugh all they want because in the end, he knew they were jealous of mortals.

"Gods shouldn't be laughing at men," Shuri said and he turned to face her, seeing her looking up at the skies. "They are also foolish."

He closed his eyes, silently agreeing. "I, however, am no mere man."

She grinned at him.

 _Neither are you,_ were his unspoken words.

* * *

He followed her not because he couldn't force her back to his palace, certainly not because he feared her headstrong attitude in some way, and definitely not because he was still holding onto petty anger over the slap he had received to the face. No. He followed her out of simple curiosity. Then he'd bring her back to his castle – for what purpose, he didn't quite know himself. Entertainment, mostly. A few questions about Egypt and how much she knew of the gods' plan to unite their two countries. An extra way to kill time, before he settled back into thoughts of his own inevitable mortality. But for now, he focused on the present, and his decision to follow her to satisfy his inquisitive nature.

A decision he was regretting with each passing second.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to the noise of the crowds or the stuffiness of the dry city air – because he was. He just wasn't used to being right in the middle of it, or perhaps so _insufferably close_ to it was a more accurate description. He wasn't used to being near such a large amount of people unless he was single handedly destroying an army – one of his more bloody pastimes – or in his temple, where people came to bow at his feet. He watched his subjects from a distance as Shuri and the young mongrel boy he was with performed law defying acrobatics. Shuri stood on ropes tied onto buildings, gracefully dodging lit torches that were being juggled by the boy below. Shuri played with snakes, as another performer played with lions.

Such an amusing performance.

Though it wasn't enough to hold his attention for longer than five minutes. His eyes were already roaming the spectators that had come to watch the display. Some came to watch the performance for a good laugh, while others came to pickpocket the sorry fools that did. Then there were those that just wanted something to gossip about the next day. Frolicking and withered biddies with nothing better to do with their spare time.

By the time he turned back to the stage, the show was over.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Shuri asked, walking up to him. She had a snake wrapped around her arm, which she gingerly placed back into a glass pot. Gilgamesh was vaguely reminded of the fact that her mother, Wadjet, was symbolized by a snake.

"I didn't dislike it," Gilgamesh replied, eyeing her. Wondering what she knew behind that smiling face. It was always the perpetually smiling ones that hid the most secrets.

"That's a start," she shrugged. Shuri raised a hand and pointed over at a large, bulky, masculine figure. "That woman there is Remy. She's our leader. If you'd like us to come to your castle then I must speak to her first."

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, waiting for the moment this _Remy_ turned around. Once she did, Gilgamesh still couldn't see how this person was female. Her bone structure was larger than his own and she was about three feet taller. If he didn't know any better then he'd say that she belonged to some race of giants. But he didn't doubt his hearing, so it must've been true.

"Do they know of your origin?"

Shuri didn't answer that, though silence was another type of answer.

"Us?" Gilgamesh said instead. He grabbed her chin and gave her a manic grin. Inexplicably delighted when he found defiant eyes glaring into his own – tension sparking. "I believe I only mentioned _you._ I'm interested in what you know, not these meager skills of two minute fancies. If I wanted a quick dalliance then your body would more than suffice. Now, I will only repeat myself once more—"

"Don't you understand what's happening?" She shot back. Venom dripping from every word. "Forcing me to go with you will only anger the gods of Egypt! Have you not just witnessed that today?"

A shame Gilgamesh didn't care.

"—Come to my castle."

* * *

 _A/N: **Read the Notice Board on my Wordpress.** Thank you. I just wrote this chapter up now, so excuse any typos._

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 **PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**


	5. Two Countries

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

* * *

Despite her better judgment, Shuri followed cautiously behind the King of Heroes and into his castle. It was more of a temple than a castle, really. Though she supposed it was only right. The denizens of his land worshipped the ground Gilgamesh walked on, and why wouldn't they? The man was half-god. A rare thing in Babylon. She doubted he'd like Egypt very much. Bastard children of the gods roamed wherever they pleased. And with their own heaven blessed beauty, they slept with as many partners as places they visited, creating more progeny. It wasn't unusual for her to come across a misplaced demi-god lost to the pleasures of his mortal half.

Shuri looked above her, staring at the high ceiling. It was a grand place—she wasn't pigheaded enough to not be able to admit that—the entire temple was made of marble and gold and filled with valuable trinkets of all kinds. Glyphs were engraved along the walls and scantily clad courtesans batted their lashes as Gilgames passed. Each held something of value. A heavily designed vase, fine wine, even jewelry adorned with gems. All waiting for their chance to offer them to their master. He had quite the harem. A symbol of his wealth, she supposed. But the reason behind it didn't stop her nose crinkling from distaste.

They passed through large double doors, and Shuri recoiled when her foot met with a priceless rug. Ahn followed closely behind, his head bowed in respect. As servants lurched to a halt in order to drop to the waist, their backs curved in a position that spoke nothing of comfort. Gilgamesh didn't even acknowledge them, merely continued on his way as if they were little more than air. Perhaps they were—in his eyes. She wouldn't put it past him.

More doors opened for them and Gilgamesh finally stopped before a large drawing room, his head tilting just enough for her to see a flash of red irises amidst a spray of gold.

"Come," he ordered, striding in ahead of her. "Leave the boy."

Ahn squeaked at the command, his footsteps halting. As Shuri placed a hand over his head and ruffled his hair in an attempt to reassure him. It didn't work.

"I'll be quick," she muttered, walking after Gilgamesh. He looked as if he wanted to respond, but a servant hastily closed the door on him. Clearly Gilgamesh's aides were only trained to respect the man, himself.

As Shuri took in the room, vaguely registering a lion sleeping in the far corner. Her eyes turned fully to Gilgamesh, who sat atop a marble seat. His chin cradled in his hand and a smirk adorning his face. Fully relaxed and highly confident in whatever it was he was doing. Orange eyes drifted briefly around the breathtaking view surrounding them. The room wasn't closed and had only two high rails in place of walls on each side, providing an ample view of his kingdom. She took care not to let her eyes linger on the sights, however, and returned her gaze to the amused king before her. Shuri dropped to a proper bow before his feet, her mask back in place.

"A lovely palace, King of Kings," she said, genteel. "The view is as breathtaking as you mentioned. Babylon has been splendid, indeed. I've enjoyed the sights. The company of your people even more. I will think of your land with fondness on my journey back to Egypt."

His smirk disappeared and he scoffed at her words. He wasn't interested in her nonsensical courtesies and polite attempts of flattery. The splendor of his kingdom and people were strictly a matter of course. Her statements of the obvious bored him. "And what of its king?" he asked, trying to get a rise out of her.

"As fine as the land he rules," she said quickly. As if she were used to dealing with the vain sort. Perhaps she was.

"And yet you had the gall to speak back to me. Even refuse an invitation to my palace. Rarely, do I extend such courtesies to outsiders. And only once before have I personally gone out of my way for another."

"I am grateful."

"Are you?" Gilgamesh asked, waiting for a man to pour him a chalice full of wine, before dismissing him with a subtle tilt of his head. "I was doused in rain, _worm._ Even you must understand the effect of such things on one's constitution. And shall I send you the bill for my robes? They're considerably more expensive than yours."

"Will you really blame me for the rain? You're far more petty than I thought, son of Anu," she said, jutting out a saucy hip. His eyes watched her every movement, noticing the finer details of her appearance. Daughter of a goddess, indeed. Still, her words grated on his ears like screeching iron. "Shall I call for one of your women, so that she may ease your strained muscles? I'm sure they'd be more than happy to oblige to the demands of a king such as yourself."

His smirk returned. It stretched his lips in a way that would have made even the most promiscuous of goddesses tremble in desire. "You've defied me enough times in the past few hours than others have a chance to do in a dozen lifetimes. I've killed men for lesser misdeeds. Surely you plan on making these transgressions up to me."

"I am at your castle, am I not?"

"And how exactly will you repay me?"

"With the whispers you're so desperate to hear, of course." Shuri smiled at him. Too wide. Too happy. Too everything. He wasn't a foolish man, he knew there was nothing genuine about her smile.

"You know much," Gilgamesh muttered, "for a bastard."

"I prefer the term, 'snake'," she told him. "I make it a habit to know the happenings above me. And unlike many, I am on well enough terms with the gods to be privy to their plans."

"The plan to bring Babylon and Egypt together under one rule," Gilgamesh stated, eyes sparking in interest. "Do go on."

"The gods have been scouring Egypt in search of a suitable wife. A demi-god like yourself. One beautiful enough to hold your eye. And startling enough to deal with your… special brand of banter."

"And they sent you?" he mocked with a laugh.

She merely continued to smile at him. "I am one of many. Both women and men have been sent or unknowingly led here by your gods. You rarely leave your castle, so I doubt you've noticed the others. They flee as quickly as they arrive after all. Once they hear about the incident with that goddess… and her fury… they turn tail and run."

"Ah, that foolish woman," he exhaled, finding solace in the thought that she was probably watching him from the heavens and could hear his every scalding word. He took a sip of wine and allowed his senses to be clouded for a moment by its dryness. It burned all the way down. "That unfaithful goddess with as many lovers as myself could never be attractive to my eyes. The beauty of something is diminished when I'm forced to share it with another."

"That is a strange standard."

"Is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Everything in this world belongs to me. The fact that another partakes in something already mine is simply unacceptable. Especially if I officially declare my ownership over it."

"It is selfish to want a woman's eyes only on you, and not extend the same courtesy."

"I never claimed to be altruistic."

Shuri laughed at that. It was hoarser than she remembered, startled out of her like a scant few drops of rain after a drought. "Will you claim a dozen more wives then? Make yours the daughters of Egypt and take over our pyramids? Replace our sphinxes with stone statues of your figure?"

His smirk thinned into something a little more relaxed, as he closed his eyes and eased into his seat. "It is a tempting thought."

But it wasn't one he was particularly interested in. Conquering Egypt had never crossed his mind. Babylon was his, he had no need for another land to rule over. Perhaps if it struck his fancy one of these days, then he'd act on his whim. But for now, he was still reeling from the death of Enkidu. Still pondering the thought of oblivion. Now that he thought better of it, perhaps Egypt had more information about the afterlife and immortality. It might be worth taking a trip.

"Reserve for me then a place in your hall, King of Kings," she said with a sardonic bow. "It would be an honor to entertain you and your wives."

"Shall I have you join them?"

"I'm afraid I would decline should such an offer be made. The thought of sharing has never once appealed to me. The thought of being caged within a palace, even less."

"Be my wife," he suddenly declared, uncaring for her words. They only made him want to order her more. She, however, didn't seem fazed by his declaration. As if she'd expected it.

"Are you hard of hearing, King of Kings?"

His eyes narrowed at the blatant insult. "You refuse me?"

"Ah, so you did hear."

Before he could register, the Gate of Babylon suddenly opened behind him. Dozens of noble phantasms peeked from within, their sharp edges pointed directly at her. Shuri didn't move, but Gilgamesh didn't fail to see the way her brow creased and her legs twitched, fully prepared to flee should he decide to empty his vault. He'd often been told by the gods that his temper tended to get the better of him, but at this moment, he could hardly care for their reprimands—and the one's he'd undoubtedly receive once he forced her to submit to his will. The lion in the corner of the room raised his head in sudden alarm, reacting to his master's cool fury. It was trained enough to not interfere with their stand-off, but Gilgamesh didn't know of a beast that wouldn't take the opportunity to attack. And he amused himself with the thought of allowing Shuri to fight his lion. If nothing else, it would provide good entertainment.

"Will you force me then?" Shuri asked, distracting him from his thoughts. Though she already knew the answer. "Barbarism doesn't suit you, nor does it do any wonders for your face. The children of gods are not immune to wrinkles."

Gilgamesh smoothed his features, belatedly realizing that his brows had been furrowed and his lips curled up into an unpleasant sneer. Still, it was attractive. Even he knew that much. He could be nothing less. With sheer will, he forced the Gate of Babylon closed and stood to his full height. Shuri was tall, but as a man, he was naturally her superior. With purposeful steps, he crossed the distance between them and cupped her chin. The grin he gave her was nothing short of manic.

"Those fake lords want me to find a wife, you say?" he said, breathing against her lips. She didn't flinch. Merely narrowed her eyes in restrained wrath. "Then if you're so against marrying me, find a replacement for yourself."

He dropped her chin and headed toward the door.

"Don't disappoint me, Shuri."

As he left the room, he only heard one thing: "I am no matchmaker."

Gilgamesh smirked.

* * *

Gilgamesh leaned against a marble pillar, shooing away all the courtesans trying to coax him into bed. He'd had his fill and was now merely busying himself with staring down at his grand courtyard, amusedly watching a young red-haired woman and her companion sneaking away into the night. He should have known Shuri wouldn't do his bidding simply because he commanded it. And while it made him grit his teeth in slight anger, it also made a smirk involuntarily stretch as easily as a woman's legs across his lips.

He debated if he should stop them. And only continued to grin when Shuri's eyes met his, the woman even had the audacity to wink at him, as they continued their sneaking around. He didn't stop them. She could leave if she wished. The world was his. She could never truly outrun him. Soon, they'd be gone from his lands and back inside the safety of their own. Did she have a lover there, he wondered. And found himself nodding at the thought. It was likely. Beautiful women didn't tend to be alone for long. That was just fact. Just as the sun was hot and water was wet.

 _Perhaps I should show my face in Egypt,_ he mused, raising his glass to her, as their eyes met once again. She cupped her own hand, pretending to hold her own glass and downing it, before she strode off into the night.

 _And she's gone,_ he thought, finding himself thoroughly entertained. His attention hadn't been this diverted since Enkidu was by his side. It was just as well. He'd been bored recently. His thoughts had been taking drearier turns with each passing day, all filled with his own demise and his inevitable aging. It was about time he'd found something to distract him.

Besides, he was in the mood for a chase.

The novelty of such a thing should keep him busy for quite a while. Perhaps until he found a way to solve the current problem of his own mortality.

And as dawn finally rose, bathing his kingdom in new light, the servants fell into madness. Which turned into full blown frenzy when they saw his empty chalice by the balcony, bathed in the sun's rays.

Gilgamesh was nowhere to be found.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _Ok, so I know this was kind of a short chapter since I'm just weening myself back into writing fanfiction, as I've been so focused on my novel. I've finished it, by-the-by, and am currently working on my second one, while waiting for my query letters to return to me. Anywho, I am officially off of my hiatus!_ _ **The next chapter will be Gilgamesh back in present times. Please remember that this is just another one of my short story fics! 12 chapters max.**_ _I hope I didn't rush this one too much. But yea… I'm still trying to get back into the groove of writing fanfiction._

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 _Reviews are appreciated, though I may not be able to reply to all._


	6. Children of Egypt

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night_

* * *

Gilgamesh traversed the dirt roads of Egypt. They were terribly—sandy. And hot. The heat was a live thing that scorched all it touched, the suns glaring rays only added to the burn. As if the sand wasn't bad enough. And oh, was it bad. It was everywhere. He was used to sand in his own country, but Egypt's was worse in every possible way. It was a plague. And for the first time, Gilgamesh realized that the possibility of sand becoming a legitimate weapon against his enemies was very real. It clung to every available surface, even to his hair, and somehow found its way into his robes. It even attempted to blind him multiple times with its terrible particles. Not to mention that it hurt. With each strong gale, patches of sand would brush against his skin, already prickling with heat, to add to his overall discomfort.

Gilgamesh loathed discomfort.

Once he found his prize, he'd drag her away by the hair, and then punish her for this wild chase across the country. Half-god Shuri may have been, but she wasn't on his level. She shouldn't have run—even if he did allow it; even if he was amused by it—at the time. Now, however, he was only bored and hot and sweaty. Only able to find solace in the thought of returning to Babylon with Shuri at his heels and the angry gods of both Egypt and Babylon shouting at him from the Heavens where they congregated, their dwindling powers a testament to how far humans have come on their own—without their help. Speaking of humans, he could only imagine what his servants were up to. Trying to find him perhaps? Undoubtedly. The thought had Gilgamesh smirking. And he swore he saw someone faint at the sight of it. Humans were such easy things.

People stared as he walked past. Their mouths agape and their eyes wider than what should have been possible, bowing almost as an afterthought, but still bowing nevertheless. He was the King of Babylon after all. Everyone knew him. It was a running rumor in Babylon that even newborn babies knew Gilgamesh's face—his gold was the light that guided them into the new world. He sorely doubted it. But they could believe what they wanted to. He certainly wouldn't stop them. Especially not if it was favorable towards himself.

Gilgamesh came upon a long row of merchant carts just at the bend of a particularly large building that produced a cascading shadow across what he could only guess was some sort of market. More people lingered there, finding relief in the shade. Women clad in scanty clothing waved from a few of the upper windows, inviting men inside their dens so that they could feast upon their pouches at the cost of a little flesh and a little soul. Small statuettes were sold everywhere. Some in the shape of sphinxes and men with the head of rams. Gilgamesh didn't know what god those clay dolls represented—if any—but it was fascinating all the same. Not enough for him to waste gold on, but enough to garner more than a second glance.

Somewhere off to the side, a little boy screamed. And in the same moment, the sound of a whip unfurling caught his attention. It cut through the air, digging deep into the now weeping boy's back, as he stumbled. No one stopped to help him. No one even spared a glance. Merely shrugging it off. Slavery was a common occurrence everywhere, and Gilgamesh watched in morbid fascination—or tired numbness—as the whip lashed downward once again to place another mark in the boys already ruined back.

Once more, then twice, three more times.

Blood was everywhere. Red and thick. There was nothing beautiful about it. Just stark crimson against golden sand. And as the boy failed to respond—the final lash having nicked him on the side of the head on its way down—the slaver picked him up by the arm and threw him against the nearest wall, where a girl, who Gilgamesh assumed was his sister, finally stepped up to properly tend to his wounds. Gilgamesh sorely doubted the boy would live, however. The strike to the head had been deep. Anyone with a brain could have seen that. But whether it was through love or a fierce sense of denial, the young girl still kept calling his name and trying to stop the bleeding.

And Gilgamesh finally turned.

 _Foolish child,_ he thought, bitterly thinking of a lost friend. _Humans are such fragile things. They can die in an instant. Even gods aren't exempt from death. That boy certainly wasn't._

And once again, he was lost to thoughts of death and the grim reaper and his own inevitable demise. He had much, but eternal life wasn't among his keepsakes. He'd have to find it then, he decided. Sooner rather than later. Surely, such a thing must've existed—somewhere in this vast, vast world. Gods are secretive and greedy and always prepared. One of them, at least, must've tucked away the secret to immortality—just in case.

Gilgamesh turned, finding a lone woman walking up to him. She was beautiful and slender and obviously a half breed. Just like him. It was true then, that bastards walked the planes of Egypt freely and plenty.

"Son of Anu's son," the woman bowed. Her dark hair fell around her like a sheet. Even darker skin greeted him like darkness turning toward its master. "What brings you to Egypt, my King?"

Seems that the bastards of Egypt did know respect.

"I've heard whispers of certain… plots," Gilgamesh said carefully, eyeing the woman as she stood once more. She was taller than even him. Disconcerting, to say the least.

"As have we," she said. "But certainly not from our side."

"Yes, Babylonian gods do like to meddle more than they should," Gilgamesh said, sighing up to the Heavens, taking what little pleasure he could in the fact that he knew they could hear him.

"Do you plan to as well?" she asked. "May I ask what brings you here? If you plan to unite the lands then surely you must've chosen a suitable w—"

"Enough, Dalia!" a man suddenly rebuked and the dark haired woman silenced immediately, shooting a glance behind her at a brunette two heads shorter. The man walked up to them, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. Otherworldly beauty. Another half breed. "Anu's sprog can suck the tit of any Babylonian or Egyptian woman he wants. But demi-gods are off limits, ya hear?" The man shot Gilgamesh a dirty look. One that he took with a blank stare and crippling patience. "Your gods come scouring our lands for a wife to head your little harem and expect us to just follow their wishes. We're free here. No demi-god's going to let go of that for a few pieces of nice jewelry. None of any actual worth anyway. But I s'pose you can search for some of our lower brothers and sisters, they'll be game. But I can guarantee that they're voices here in Egypt are just as shit as they are."

"Still your tongue, mongrel," Gilgamesh said, closing his eyes in annoyance at the man's ever present sneer. He hadn't even done anything yet. And he certainly wasn't looking for a wife. His grandfather's wishes be damned. "Before I cut it out."

The man bent his knees, producing a long blade almost as tall as himself. "Would you like to try the sharpness of your blade, sprog of Anu?"

"I am a King. Refer to me as such, mongrel."

"You are a vortex of blond maleficence."

Gilgamesh finally crossed his arms, utterly incensed. The insult barely registered. But he had no patience for deaf men. And the half breed certainly seemed to be hard of hearing. "So be it. Come then, mongrel. I grow tired of words."

The spot between Gilgamesh's brows furrowed slightly in a physical display of his disdain, as a dozen portals opened up behind him. He vaguely registered the sudden screams that erupted, before the townspeople hurried away in terror. Some stayed. More bastards, he assumed, waiting out the brashness of a clearly ill-tempered younger brother. None, however, stepped in.

Well, all but one.

"Are you two done? Or shall I continue to sit here and admire the view of a man getting butchered beyond recognition?"

The familiarity of the voice was what made Gilgamesh's eyes turn. Nothing more. Because he knew that voice. Even that tone. And he was met with red hair and disapproving eyes. Shuri. She wasn't sneering, but her eyebrows were so drawn together that she might as well have been. It would have been less comical. Ahn was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the rest of her caravan.

The man dropped his stance immediately. While Gilgamesh waited a second longer, before allowing his own portals to close. And suddenly, all those remaining let out a collective breath of relief. It seemed they weren't as eager to let blood rain as he initially believed. Stupid of them then, to insult him so.

"Shuri," the man greeted with nothing more than a slight nod of his head, before he all but fled from the area, turning on his heel and disappearing among the side streets with Dalia on his heels. Her lithe figure was easier to keep track of, and red eyes followed it until she followed the man into a particularly closed off corner where they finally disappeared from sight.

"He's scared of you," Gilgamesh noted.

"He," Shuri stressed, stopping to stand a few feet away from him, "is a frightened mouse with an abundant amount of free time. Ninth son of the Goddess Nekhbet, vulture, sister to my mother, and protector of Upper Egypt. As the ninth, he is young and given very little to do. A striver for attention. He will bother you again as soon as the chance presents itself."

"And his companion?"

"Daughter of the Devourer, Ammit. Smarter and stronger than many of us. Her mother's name is revered, and as her daughter, she is as well. They are an unlikely pair. Powerless, but very bothersome."

"You've told me much."

"Should I not have?"

Gilgamesh finally allowed his eyes to turn to her. She was staring at him. Unnervingly so. An all piercing gaze that understood him in ways he didn't believe. He liked it. He hated it. A part of him even wanted to gouge her eyes out just to see what she saw. But her eyes turned away, and all thought left him. A lucky thing—she was.

"What brings you here, King of Kings?" Shuri asked, gesturing around at the empty streets. "Egypt is not unlike Babylon. The people are a tad poorer. What then, I wonder, has captivated your attention so that you would come all the way here? Into the unknown where many of our kind dwell?"

"Worm," Gilgamesh said haughtily, crossing his arms. "It is insulting to ask a question which you already know the answer to."

"You seek a wife."

"No," he denied immediately. What use would he have for a wife? Women bowed to him, practically threw themselves at his feet. He had no need for such chains. "I seek a momentary cure for my own boredom. Respite from my thoughts."

"Do you overthink often, King of Kings?"

"Only recently," he muttered with a shrug. Amused beyond reason by the suddenness of their conversation, as he answered with quiet honesty. He wasn't the sort of King that resorted to lies—even white ones. He was powerful and intelligent enough to handle all that came his way. "Mortality has never been an issue before."

"So you think of mortality?"

"Would you prefer it if I think of other things, worm?" Gilgamesh asked, stifling a smirk. "Women? Food? Drink? That's what the demi-gods here seem to dream of with this so-called freedom of theirs. Swine. The lot of them."

"Misguided, perhaps. Not swine."

Gilgamesh didn't agree. He didn't voice that though, she already knew. He could tell. He never hid his opinions—especially the more negative ones. They sat plainly on his face for all to see and admire and hate. "Where are your duckling followers, worm?"

She wasn't fazed by the question, simply closing her eyes in quiet contemplation of her next words. "They are safe. Asleep. It's the middle of the day. Egypt is hot. Our work requires rest."

That, he could agree to. Not the final part of her statement—but about the heat. The terrible, sweltering heat. His skin was on fire. And he just knew that his skin would burn if he stayed another second under the sun's unforgiving scrutiny. They Egyptian Sun God clearly knew nothing of mercy. It was no wonder that the slaves were all so gangly and dark.

Gilgamesh sighed, sitting himself down upon a particularly lavish stack of rugs left in a forgotten stall along the empty streets. The townspeople seemed to know better than to come back so quickly. Perhaps this happened often. And as if obeying his thoughts, a large formation of clouds blocked the sun at just the right angle, shielding him from the horrid sun. As he grabbed a jug of water and poured it over his hands and feet.

"Entertain me," he told her.

Shuri raised an eyebrow at the audacity of the command. "I will not."

He smirked, despite his rising annoyance. Sorely wishing for wine. Perhaps if he laid here long enough someone would hand him a chalice full. "So be it."

Both her eyebrows raised at that. "You're awfully forgiving today."

He didn't know why either. His disposition had been awful the moment he stepped foot in Egypt—had grown worse the longer he stayed. But he was fine now. Tired, but content enough to lay down and sleep.

"Consider yourself fortunate then," was his reply. "Now, hush, and let me sleep an hour."

Shuri was quiet for a moment and then, "I believe I may have what you seek." Gilgamesh peeked open an eye, not bothering to stand or even ask her to elaborate. Collected, despite his insides burning with curiosity. "The remedy to your mortality."

His eyes opened fully then.

Surely, this was some sort of trap. It must've been. A trap conjured by her mother in order to kill him or—something. The gods were always up to something and she was nothing more than their faithful servant. Nothing was ever so convenient. Not matters like this, at least. For it to fall into his lap right after a brief mention was just too—unlikely. Inconceivable. Highly improbable. _It's a trap_ , he repeated in his head like a mantra. _A trap. An obvious and poorly-crafted trap._

"Do you want it?" she asked.

Even so—

"I do."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Short chapter. Yes, I know. My bad. I'm no longer used to writing fanfiction. I much prefer original fiction nowadays. *sigh* Okay, if you guys haven't read the timeline on my wordpress then you really need to do so. Like seriously. I'm not going to explain Gilgamesh's past and all that jazz. It'll be referenced, but no explaining. Too hard. I also recommend reading the wiki. The present time chapter has been bumped up into the next one. It was better suited for there._

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 ** _Please Review._**


	7. Author's Note

I released a fantasy novel. You can find more information on my original fiction blog. The URL is on my profile. (Please manually input because FF links are currently malfunctioning.)

This fic is on Hiatus until further notice. Sorry to everyone that liked and were looking forward to more chapters. I'm always available via PM here if you have any questions regarding this story.


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